So quiet in the house. Though I

am not up early, others chose

to sleep a little more. It’s Saturday,

a day when weekly needs

have slipped away to clear a space

for weekend to appear.

                                     A place

to hold a thought inside my mouth

and savor every flavor note

before I’m forced to swallow,

and admit that time, that seemed

to be on leave, has reemerged,

full force, to have us act

the parts that someone scratched

on to our rolls.

                         Then with

a mighty sweep, a wind appears

and whisks the hours clean

of gentle dreams; no skin of hope,

just bones assembled, joint to

joint, that may or may not have

the strength to bear the weight

of day, already late.

                                 Falling

back to earth, another day climbs

to the crest to view the graveyard,

littered with more bones, whose markers,

weathered by the storms that often

hinder progress, bear little witness

to the passings.

All things are connected. That’s the premise of what William J. Joel does. Each of Mr. Joel’s interests informs each other. Mr. Joel has been teaching computer science since 1983 and has been a writer even longer. His works have recently appeared in Common Ground Review, DASH Literary Journal, The Blend International, Liminality, and North Dakota Quarterly.